Robarts Sucks No. 5932

...or in the old vernacular: Robarts: 2; Zh.: 1. I'm sitting in my still sweltering carrel, which will be empty for two weeks after today, wrapping up the definitive rough draft of the conference paper. Looking for reinforcements for my transition in which Burian tears the lid off the romantic outlaw topos and goes all expressionist on Mácha's ass, I went thundering up to the thirteenth floor for a quick look at Furness' conveniently named Expressionism. It wasn't there. No, wait. They weren't there. There are two copies, both missing. So now I'm using the second volume of the Encyclopedia of World Literature in the 20th Century and feeling all ghetto. Where's the first-class scholarship Little Miss Smarty-Pants? What are you, an undergrad? Sigh. I need a vacation.

I get a point because the long-missing surrealist miscellany Neither Swan Nor the Moon has resurfaced. -Zh.